


Seriously Not Gay

by loonyBibliophile



Category: Homestuck
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-03-21
Updated: 2012-03-21
Packaged: 2017-11-02 07:18:09
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,641
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/366396
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/loonyBibliophile/pseuds/loonyBibliophile
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>No matter how many times Dirk tells his best friend Roxy he isn't gay, she just won't believe him. When he comes home from a weekend back in Texas to drunker and sadder than normal Roxy, he sobers her up before finally telling herself very important. First time writing Dirk OR Roxy, so, fingers crossed!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Seriously Not Gay

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Mama Lalonde](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Mama+Lalonde).



“Dirksyyyyyyy” Roxy slurred, dropping her slight frame into Dirk’s lap, sprawling across the pristine white sofa and grinning up at him drunkenly, reaching one hand, with it’s chipped pink polish, up to ruffle his hair. Dirk sighed, shaking his head and pulling her hand down and resituating her so she was snuggled against his chest instead of lying across his lap. 

“Hey, Rox.” He said quietly, smiling slightly. 

“You’re backkkk.” She sing songed, nuzzling his chin with her slim nose. “I missed choo.”

“I missed you too, Lalonde.”

“S’big house, is really fukkin’ lonely ‘thout youuu.” Her smile wavered, the gloom of her long standing fear of abandonment threatening the cheery sheen of her drunkenness. 

“I know it is.” he frowned down at his best friend, tucking an errant strand of her blonde hair back. “You’ve gotta stop drinking so much…” he said somberly, his amber-orange eyes scanning the bottles and glasses scattered around the hardwood floor of the Lalonde mansion’s large study. 

“But s’when Ah drink Ah’m funnnn. And if’m fun everyone’ll love me. Bu if’m sober and boringggg everyone’s gonna leave.” She leaned her head into his chest, instantly clamping her lipstick lips together, trying desperately to pretend she hadn’t just admitted that, locking her too thin arms around Dirk’s waist. 

“Hey now. You’ve got me, and you’ve got Jake, and you’ve got Jane. What more do you need?”

“But you guys’ll leave me too!” she whisper mumbled into his chest, shaking her head adamantly. 

She reminded him of a little girl when she got like this. So stubborn, so scared, and far more innocent than any utterly wasted 18 year old had any right to be. 

“That’s not true. Jake and Jane are your friends, they aren’t going anywhere. And I’d certainly be nowhere without my best girl.” He smiled at her reassuringly, stroking her back. 

“I can’t be your best girl. Shoo got miss Janeyyy. Janey janey janey. Janey’s everybody’s s’best girl. So good and inn’cent and smart.” She hiccupped, rubbing her eyes at smearing at her mascara. “I’m jus a fuckin’ disaster.”

“Nope. My best girl is definitely you, and I won’t hear another word about it. You’ve always been my best girl.” He swooped her up with ease, tucking her over his shoulder in a fireman’s carry and carting her up the stairs. She squirmed slightly, giggling. 

“Where’re you takin’ me, Dirk?”

“You, my dear, are taking a long, hot bath and then you are sleeping this off, and I will be right there in the morning to nurse this terrible hang over you’re going to have. Alright?”

“Why’d I have a hangover? I’m just gonna gets drunk again, shilly!” he set her down then, carefully, in front of the bathroom door, turning and rooting around her drawers for pajamas for her. She wrapped her arms around him from behind, leaning her forehead into his back. “Ca’I wear wanna your shirts, Dirksy? Pease?”

“Sure, Rox.” He smiled slightly, leaning over to reach for the suitcase of his clothes on top of her dresser, pulling out one of his long sleeved shirts, and finished rooting through Roxy’s drawers for a pair of her shorts and handing them to her. “Now go wash up, pretty lady.” 

“You can come if’you wan. E’rryone knows you’re so totes gay for Mr. English.” She winked at him sloppily as she stumbled towards the bathroom. 

“For the nth time, Lalonde,” he said, teeth gritted “I’m not gay.” She sighed and slunk into the bathroom, leaving the door cracked as she ran a bath. Dirk shook his head and slid to the floor, resting his head on his knees. 

“I totes get it though.” She called from the tub. “Jakey boy’s superrrr fine. S’not my type, bu t’I geddit.” 

“I don’t like Jake, Roxy. I did once upon a time, but I was just confused. I don’t like Jake and I’m not gay. That’s kind of what I wanted to talk to you about.” 

“Then talk away, babyyyy. M’listenin’!”

“I want you sober when I tell you.” He heard her breathe in sharply. He closed his eyes, hoping she’d agree. 

“Kay. But only cos it’s shyou and I love you.”

He heard the water draining from the tub as Roxy stood, toweling off and pulling her pajamas on, padding out onto the carpet of her bedroom. 

“Squeaky clean?” he asked with a slight smirk.

“S’a fuckin’ whistle. Can we sleep now?” she looked up at him expectantly, her eyes heavily lidded and obviously tired, pupils dilated from all the alcohol. He nodded, slipping into the bathroom and quickly pulling on a pair of red flannel pajama pants, emerging and leading his drunken best friend to her bed, where she immediately curled herself around him, eerily like one of her cats, and passed out, tangled in her pink bed sheets. 

The next morning, noon sun came spilling in the wide bay window, and Roxy groaned, burying her face further into the pile of pillows. 

“Morning, Sunshine.” Dirk quipped. 

“Screw you. It’s your fault I can’t drink this hang over away.”

“True. However, at least I brought you a can of tomato juice, a large bottle of your favorite fancy water, and lots of ibuprofen?”

“Gimme.” She mumbled, her face covered in a pillow. “And please, for the love of Jack, close the fucking blinds.” 

Dirk chuckled. Standing up and shutting the blinds over the window, he watched his best friend as she winced down a can of tomato juice and chugged a large bottle of water. He sat down next to her on the bed. 

“Feel better?”

“I feel sober.” She grimaced.

“Do you want me to make you bacon?”

“…Is that even a real question. Of course I want bacon, Strider, yeesh.” 

He laughed at shook his head at his best friend as he rose and moved towards the door, heading for the kitchen with her shuffling behind, squinting. He glanced back and reached up suddenly, plucking his glasses off his own face and gently placing them on her nose. 

“There, Lalonde. For better hallway vision.” 

“Don’t quote The Breakfast Club at me, Strider.” She shoved him playfully, consciousness slowly wearing away her hung over stupor. She perched herself on the counter while he dug around the fridge, pulling out bacon and eggs and bread for toast. “So why do I need to be sober today?” she asked, looking somewhat forlornly at the cabinet that held the ingredients for her usual breakfast, a bloody mary. 

“Because I need to talk to you. But it’s waiting until after we eat so don’t even try to weasel it out of me.” He smirked and pointed at her accusingly with the spatula. 

It was quiet then, not uncomfortably so. Just quiet. And then the room was filled with the quiet sounds of eating, the two friends cross legged on the kitchen floor, plates piled high with breakfast fare, the occasional snicker or giggle escaping on or the other. Roxy did the dishes when they were done, and wordlessly the moved into the living room, where Roxy flopped dramatically onto the sofa. 

“Okay, Strider. Spill the beans.” She waggled her eyebrows at him. 

“Could you sit up right, please?” he looked at her imploringly, orange eyes vulnerable without his glasses. She nodded, pulling herself upright and taking his glasses off, setting them on the glass coffee table. 

“What’s up, Dirk?” he took a deep breath and ran one fingerless glove clad hand through his spiky hair. 

“I have been telling you, adamantly, for years, that I’m not gay. Which is true. I have also been telling you I no longer have feelings for Jake. Which is also true. I have also been telling you there’s no one I’m interested in. That’s a lie.” 

“Okay…” she trailed off, tilting her head at him curiously. “It’s Janey, isn’t it?” she asked suddenly. “It makes sense. She’s smart like you are, so kind and innocent. Beautiful too.” Her voice sounded sad, but she kept talking anyway, until he noticed Dirk slowly shaking his head. 

“I love Jane. But sort of like you love your naïve but endearing little sister. Not in any sort of romantic way.” 

“Well if it isn’t Jake, and it isn’t Jane, I don’t see who else it could be considering we’re the only people who know anything about you…” she trailed off when she noticed how intensely he was staring at her, his eyes trying to lead her to some conclusion “…Oh.” 

“Got it finally, did you?”

“Me? But… why? I’m just a teenage drunk. Damaged goods.”

“You sell yourself short. You’re witty, smart, smarter when you’re sober, beautiful. Bit of a handful, but worth every ounce of effort it takes to stay around. Which isn’t much. Because I love being around you, even when you’re drunk and sobbing.”

“But I’m such a fucking disaster.”

“Maybe. But you’re my disaster. If that’s alright with you?” he looked at her imploringly. 

“You really want me. You’re sure? I’m not Janey. I’m not gonna be nice and sweet all the time, or even sober all the time. But I mean, if you want, I guess I can try to drink a little less…” she trails off yet again. He shakes his head and leans down, kissing her gently, gloved hands stroking her face as she leaned into him, relaxing against his chest. After a few minutes he pulls away gently, smiling softly down on her. 

“We’re both a little fucked up, Rox. But you put the two of us together, and I’m relatively sure that we can do just about anything.” He smirked at her, and she laughed at shook her head, blonde waves shifting, as she grabbed the stupid popped collar of his white shirt and kissed him again, pulling him down on top of her.

**Author's Note:**

> Happy birthday, miss Mama Lalonde!!!


End file.
